Chrono Curtain
by Moguler
Summary: Fight the battle, win at all cost. Let your own men die. A new look at the troops who get down and dirty fighting the commander's war. Snapshots from various Command and Conquer Universes. Please R


A/N: This is my second fanfic. Taking a short break from AO:CO. Hoep you guys will like this one. It's a slightly more tragic look at the troops we so thoughtlessly send to die. ;)

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**Chrono Curtain **

**Part One: Paratrooper**

_War is for the rich… Who wage war at the expense of the poor._

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_The Geneva Convention stated that paratroopers were not to be shot at. But when the second Soviet/Allied war broke out, the Soviets completely ignored all such restrictions regarding war. And the Allies, having no other choice, did the same. When Yuri's psychic corps joined the war, all hell broke loose. The Convention was not only ignored, but in some theatres, actively opposed._

1500 Hrs, Egypt

Lance Corporal Joseph Blunt  
British Paratrooper

The C-130 was nearing its destination. Joseph looked out of one of the shattered viewports, only to see both engines smoking, hull damage, and one wing so bullet-ridden that it looked nothing like a wing. Joseph readied his parachute. They were the 16th airborne. They could carry out this simple mission of landing in the middle of enemy territory and destroying the enemy from inside out.

The loadmaster walked briskly past each of them, checking that their parachute harnesses were put on correctly. One mistake and a man could hang himself. When he came to Joseph, he looked straight in his eye. There was fear written all over the loadmaster's face. Joseph placed a hand on the loadmaster's shoulder. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled sob.

Joseph had been deployed in six different theatres of war. Never once had the plane he was going to drop from been fired on. The loadmaster, finishing the checks, went to the rear end of the plane and opened the door leading out. One by one, the paratroopers dropped out. Nearby, another squad was dropping. This was the American 101st Airborne. They had some of the most deadly paratroopers falling out of that plane.

Joseph was last at the hatch. "Wait." The loadmaster stopped Joseph. The C-130 did bank to the left. "Wrong angle. You could have died." Joseph nodded. The loadmaster's face was streaked with tears and sweat. "Good luck." The loadmaster extended a hand to Joseph, who took it, and was surprised to feel a piece of paper in his hand.

"If you make it out. Mail this for me." Joseph nodded, then jumped. He could see the sprawling psychic corps base now. There were several psychic towers on the outskirts of the base. Thankfully, none were near enough to affect any of the paratroopers at their landing points.

The 101st never made it to the ground. Even from Joseph's altitude, he could see the 30mm gattling bullets flying from the two Gattling Cannons and slaying each paratrooper, one by one.

The 16th managed to avoid that fate, but just barely. One of the men, another Lance Corporal like Joseph was downed by a squad of Psychic Corps Initiates when he hit the ground. Joseph, upon landing, immediately grabbed the sand bags that he had been carrying and dropped them on the ground, making a makeshift but mostly effective barrier. He pulled the M-60 machine gun from his back. Each GI was made to carry one M-60. Joseph hated the weight, but the number of times it had saved his life made up for the extra difficulty.

The squad of initiates, which comprised of four men, was advancing toward the paratroopers, who had all lain out sandbags and machine-guns. The first initiates to reach the M-60's maximum range were immediately cut down, but the next two managed to let off a few streams of mental energy before they too, succumbed to intense fire.

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief and was about to get up, when one of the men near him screamed and disappeared in a cloud of bullets, gore and blood. Joseph felt bile rise up his throat, threatening to make him throw up.

Without warning, a Gattling tank appeared out from nowhere and began firing at the paratroopers. First one men fell, then another, then another, and then Joseph was the only man left, right after the M-60 rounds finally managed to damage the light tank sufficiently enough that its fuel and ammunition ignited and blew the tank up in a blizzard of flame and shrapnel.

Joseph choked, finally vomiting as he packed up his equipment. He felt nauseated by the sight of his friends dying. He felt anger that there had to be an evil megalomaniac out there who wanted world domination and had to cause all this suffering. He felt sad that his friends had died. Joseph suppressed all of his emotions, save anger, as adrenaline rushed through his veins.

He dashed for the nearest enemy structure, intending to take apart the entire base with his bare hands if he had to. But instead, he suddenly felt light-headed. It was the same feeling that he had just before becoming totally drunk, on the night after the first Soviet/Allied war had ended and they were celebrating.

He gasped, feeling bile rise to his throat again._ Mind Control._ Joseph tried to run, tried to get away from this new source of pain. But his feet would not respond. His mind was clouded. He felt and saw himself move toward a structure his subconscious vaguely recognized as a "Grinder." A massive construction that ground almost anything, whether mechanic or organic, into their basic elements.

Then, Joseph heard a loud explosion somewhere in the distance. He felt his mind clearing as the effects of mind control washed off. At once, he began running toward the source of the explosion. Joseph was halfway there when, without warning, his mind began to cloud again. He felt vaguely aware of the fact that he was being sent toward the source of the explosion, but didn't register why. It was only when he saw the massive optics of a Prism Tank that he understood. The psychic corps base was under assault.

Joseph tried to resist, but the mind control was absolutely thorough. He placed his sandbags and machine-gun down, just as he would in normal circumstances. He fired at the Prism Tank. He desperately tried to stop, and he just managed to free his mind from the effects of the mind control, the Prism Tank's optics focused on him and fired a beam of super heated light, completely boiling his blood, roasting and disintegrating Joseph in the same instant.

_How ironic_.


End file.
